


Her Classic Red Lips

by friedhottubkingdom (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya is just so rambunctious, F/F, Margaery herself isn't really present but she is super important in this piece, Margaery is a fantasy herself, Sansa's on the brink, everything works out for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:02:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/friedhottubkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa reflects on someone who just captivates her attention after a few months of attending her new high school in the south.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Classic Red Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sapphire_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_blue/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Sapphire, love you!!

Her Classic Red Lips

 

To say Sansa was distracted would be an understatement, truly her mind was completely living in another world filled of wonder and awe as she stared at her new friends as the car driven by her father moved onwards. The image in front of her kept moving by slowly, as her eyes could only focus on the blonde beauty that had captivated her attention.

It wasn’t until the sign reading Kingsley High was miles away, that Sansa could partially make out the words of the speech Arya was receiving from their Father – another set of their mother’s rules broken, she guessed. Arya could never abide by any law of any land unless solely spoken from Jon’s mouth, she only could break them – very contrasting to the girl who so preoccupied her mind.

Margaery was clever and elegant, so unlike everyone from Winterfell who approved and even began to exhibit some of Arya’s most bizarre and rather off putting attributes. That however didn’t mean she wasn’t as tricky, it was a certain strength that excited her.

Sansa couldn’t lie to herself and say that she had quite the sisterly feelings for her, because she was drawn to her in ways she could never find to Myrcella, to Cersei, to Mya. To anyone. Margaery was simply a radical factor that had Sansa on the edge of some sort of lunacy. Or maybe she could be her call to awakening, she thought thinking on Margaery’s seductive smirk, lips encased in a deep inviting red that worked to only pull Sansa closer and closer until she could almost make it.

Oh Sansa wanted her in ways she hadn’t realized she wanted anyone before, no one could make her so hot and bothered quicker. No wonder Joffrey wanted her, to Sansa she seemed to be perfection in the flesh, sometimes she wishes she could express her own wanting as boisterously loud as Joffrey could without worry of rejection, what if she could stick her hands and spread them all around her body, making her blush and giggle the sweet songs they sang together. Oh what she would give to whisper such obscene dirty things into her ears, stuff so intimate that Margaery wouldn’t even be able blab on about with the oh so gossiping gardening club that seemed to accompany her everywhere.

Sansa could imagine the romantic clandestine meetings they would hold where Sansa would continue her scandalous behavior, leaving Margaery with a blushing rather pleased face. And the touches, the sweet kisses Sansa would leave down her neck, getting more and more provocative with each sigh leaving those lavish red lips. Thoughts going to the mingling of tongues and quickly moving Margaery responding, hands all over Sansa’s body, exciting her in all the right places.

Sansa’s mind moved to these detailed fantasies that she felt too embarrassed to name or address even in the depths of her own mind. Her breathing was heavier, her body on fire, and she felt so many moans and gasps want to escape her with the desire becoming more evident with each separate fantasy. She was on the edge, waiting to fall of the brink into an explosion of something – well, something that she wouldn’t be able to approach due to Arya’s squealing disruption, too excited to arrive home contrasting not only her own usual behavior but Sansa’s own highly irritable mood, clearly not happy with being interrupted from a release of all these weird sensations she felt. Sansa entered the house glowering, following the stairs up to her room and laying on the bed, trying to find no distractions while adventuring into her own erotic world.

However, any attempt to do so was thwarted by Arya’s own incessant knocking. Sansa knew snark was just about to explode as well as, quite possibly, her own worst screaming fit. And just as she swung the door open, Arya quickly handed her a basket with these powerful smelling incents and lotions and some other things. “A quick dip in the tub might do you some more good than sleeping your life away Sansa,” she quickly quipped with a wink, before sharply warning her that the music has two uses, one for her enjoyment – Arya had felt the need to add the largest smirk she had ever seen before speaking with much more seriousness – and to block out the involvement of the world. Before leaving, Arya couldn’t help but throw another quip about how she had better close her goddam door, before slamming Sansa’s door behind her.

Sansa just stood their confused until realization fell upon her, Arya’s squealing had saved her from having an unspeakable episode in the car, one she would never be able to live down considering the presence of their father – nearly the most embarrassing thing could have happened. Then she took another look at the items, a better one, finally understanding her sister’s disguised helpfulness. Her last thought on the matter was about how handy having such a rambunctious little sister was. She wouldn’t even question why her little sister was so prepared with a kit on hand for herself, right now there were other matters on her mind. Her last thought was about Margaery and those classic red lips of hers, before closing the bathroom door with her pretty girl smile.


End file.
